


could be worse

by rjosettes



Series: Tumblr Fics [15]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, First Dates, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 07:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17762468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rjosettes/pseuds/rjosettes
Summary: Lydia takes her first public bus ride on her first date with Boyd.





	could be worse

**Author's Note:**

> Just archiving a quick Tumblr fic from a few years ago!

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” Lydia says hopefully, glancing around at the teeming seats around them. This is her first time on a truly public bus in her life, and if it weren’t for Boyd’s hand on hers, she might not be so optimistic. She’s never been the hand-holding type. Or maybe it was the boys who never wanted to hold her hand, and she didn’t want to put up a fuss and spoil the illusion. Either way, Boyd’s hand is warm and covers every inch of hers where they’re twined on his knee. “It could be worse.”

He laughs, shakes his head at her and calls her spoiled, and she marvels at the way that he doesn’t try to turn it into a conversation. He’s the quietest person she’s ever met, yet always able to make himself heard when he wants it. Lydia isn’t sure if that’s a born talent or a learned skill. Either way, she’s fairly sure she’ll never possess it. Allison’s ‘opposites attract’ mentality rings in her ears and isn’t that a joke? Her model of opposites attracting is a werewolf and a werewolf hunter. As far as she can tell, banshees are on neutral ground. She and Boyd aren’t going to kill each other; they just have to find something to talk about.

The bus grinds itself to a halt and Boyd smiles, still quiet, and shuffles her in front of himself by the waist so he can guide her along as they file off.

“Well?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “Does this work for a first date?”

They’re standing in front of a once-white building, large sign out front proclaiming it to be a natural science museum, open 9 through 4 every day except Sundays and bank holidays. Her heart is in her throat. She wants to thank him.

“Passable,” she says instead, and lets him keep holding her hand.


End file.
